Once A True Love of Mine
by Misoka Mine
Summary: After the death of Rio Hikari, Emiko prepares to go to her funeral as she thinks back on the romance they had shared. Yuri warning. Chapter 3 is up, and it's Kosuke's POV this time.
1. Three of Swords

**Once a True Love of Mine**

By: Misoka Mine

Rated: T+ (just to be safe)

Warning: yuri, violence

Disclaimer: Yeah, like I really own DNAngel. If I did, I don't think I'd be sitting here writing fics, but putting all of this into the manga.

Summary: After the death of Hikari Rio, Emiko goes to her funeral while remembering the romance they had. (Yuri warning.)

OK, this is weird. I've never had the urge to write a yuri fanfic till about a few months ago, which was when I got this idea. It has yet to leave, so I'm writing it now to get it from my system.

All of the chapters are named after Tarot cards, and they tell about the main emotion or event in the chapter. Also, the chapters switch back and forth each time between the present and the past.

BTW, Emiko probably seems OOC. She does to me- but she didn't sound right being all goofy. I figured that she can be serious when she wants to be. Daiki, Emiko's father, is OOC on purpose. We'll see our normal, crazy Emiko soon enough.

**Three of Cups: **Pain, tragedy, sadness, love lost, grieving, loss of a lover, death

* * *

_Are you going to Scarborough Fair?_

_Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme_

_Remember me to one who lives there_

_She was once a true love of mine_

_-(Scarborough Fair) _

Chapter 1: Three of Swords 

Time: The Present, Emiko Niwa, age 26

I dreamed in a light doze that this never-ending rain was an angel or a goddess somewhere, crying a fountain of never ending tears for some pitiful creature somewhere in the world. Most would find my image of a goddess or angel silly. But how could I not believe it, seeing the pictures of the Dark I knew to be my father flying through the city night? But, really, it was only a dream image. I knew it to be just normal rain- surely it was nothing; though a week with never ending rain was rare her

I opened my eyesand didn't think about anything in particular for a couple of minutes till I became more awake. After a while,I picked up my book again (a rare book on the Cultural Revolution) and tried to read, but my heart wasn't in it. It rarely was- I was not an avid reader in the least. After thirteen years of private tutors that forced me to spend all of my time reading, I hadgrown thoroughly sick of it. But,there had been a time, an even happier time then this, in which my favorite person had read to me, and her voice would make the words come alive in my ears and imagination, just as her family had done with their gift for generations with paints…

The front door opened with a familiar click and I heard the sound of someone taking off a raincoat. I barely had time to close my book and feign sleep before Kosuke walked into the living room. He treaded lightly over the carpet, as stealthy as any of the candidates for Dark had ever been. It was all instinct with Kosuke, to not be noticed, because his dark eyes and serious expression drew people to love him, which was not what he wanted. Always a loner, Kosuke. It made me wonder why he married someone as loud and goofy as me.

I felt the couch tremor slightly as Kosuke grasped its edge, and I felt his warmth as he leaned close to me. My magically enhanced senses picked up something emotionally wrong with him- he seemed very upset. Before I could think about it much, though, I heard him whisper.

"Emiko, are you asleep?" he whispered lightly. For him, that was so soft that there had to be dead silence in the room to hear him. I stirred slightly, just a little bit, because people reacted to their names in their sleep, if only slightly.

I didn't have to open my eyes to know that he was smiling. But, the sigh that escaped him was unexpected. Did I hear sadness…and pity in that sigh? I must have frowned unconsciously, because I felt a light kiss on my head. I felt him lift a piece of my long hair, which was curling out of control from the rain. "I'm sorry, Miko-chan," he said, a nickname I knew he had for me, but never used. Always a gap of formality between us, but that was to be expected. If he hadn't known the truth, things might have been different.

_Miko-chan?_ I thought, probably for the thousandth time since I had first figured it out. I had an overpowering urge to laugh, but I couldn't 'cause Kosuke would find out I was faking it. But it was really hard. I had to admit, though,it was certainly original- most just called me Emi. But, it didn't matter, because being eccentric was a fairly common trait the Niwas looked for in their spouses.

I felt the piece of my hair fall back on my arm, and I kept still till I heard the living room door close behind him.

I opened my eyes, and sat up slowly, placing my book away from me. I looked at the clock and 4:12 A.M. gazed at me in horrible red lights. I clicked off the lamp, and exited the living room just as quietly as Kosuke had.

I looked down the hall, and saw a thin trail of light coming from the door of my father's study. _What is he doing up? _I wondered, standing as close as I could to the door without actually being seen.

This was the last straw, I concluded. As soon as Kosuke walked out of that study (and I had heard a significant portion of their conversation) I would have to confront him and ask him of his whereabouts.

The whole week, Kosuke had been doing the same thing. Leaving early in the evening and coming home in the middle of the night, soaked from the rain. At first, it hadn't been all that bad- I honestly didn't care what he did, and he'd always been a night person. But, it had been getting worse and worse, to the point where he hadn't even come home till three in the morning the night before.

And Father- he'd been strangely unsurprised by these long and frequent jaunts. I had asked him where Kosuke was going, and he would give me the same answer Kosuke did every time he came in early the morning after. "Business," they said. But, in all honesty, I didn't buy this. I knew perfectly well the only business my father dabbled in was Hikari business- their version of Big Brother, always watching and keeping track on them. Kosuke had helped him relay messages recently, Father's arthritis making it hard for him to go out. But they never did it with this much regularity, or spend that much time talking with the spies. The Hikaris didn't do _that_ much, not nearly enough in the course of a day to talk about for hours endlessly.

No, it was something else. And while I honestly didn't care for the reason behind it, I was not about to be played for a fool. I wouldn't allow him to be so obvious about this and yet not tell me what he was doing.

But, with Father in the picture, I was confused. He was pretty lenient in what they all did, but his strict rule was that you kept the Niwa line going, and that you don't split up the family. Breaking the unsaid rule ended with you with black eyes and swollen lips. He didn't allow "affairs", which were any sort of relationship that might hinder the perfect running of the Niwa line's work.

No, I knew all to well how he felt about these "affairs".

But, then, what was going on?

I stopped my thoughts, all my concentration on hearing everything going on in the room. I heard Father fold his newspaper, asure sign that he wanted to talk. But, I heard not a word from Kosuke. The silence was deafning, in an atmospheric sort of way.

The silence went on, in which I stood inhumanly still, barely breathing, and I wondered if I wasn't hearing right, when I heard my father speak.

"Is Emiko asleep?" he asked. I glared at the nonexistent chibi version of my father on the floor, ready to be squished. How _dare _he leave me out of the conversation!

"Yes sir, she is," he said.

I shook my head, silently laughing. I was a good actress- but mybest act by far was my ability to feign sleep. No one could see past this façade- well, actually, one person had, but she didn't count. She, like all her family, had amazing observation skills. Those eyes of theirs are strong enough to see the sins on souls, if we have souls. I wouldn't try to put anything past the Hikari.

"Good," said father. He leaned on the desk, judging the creak. "What's the news on her condition? How's she doing?"

"She…passed away, last night, sir, about eleven. He had been giving me the report at that time, so he didn't get any news of it till I left." His voice gave me the image of him leaning on his hand, massaging his temples.

"So she finally gave up the ghost, eh? Was her last words anything prophetic, as it usually is with _them,_" he said. Something inside of me froze at his tone. Father- how could he be so emotionless? Even the Hikari aren't that- I stopped myself before I could finish. I knew better then to say anything like that about the Hikari. They weren't as cold as I had been told they were.

But then I realized with sick sense of disgust that no, he wasn't being emotionless about it. He was _glad._ I shuddered without thinking. Who had been this person? Who had been thisperson who was receiving such hate?

"It wasn't anything prophetic," he said, sounding so morose. I felt bad for Kosuke- he was such an empathetic person, so Father being so cold was surely tearing him apart.

"That's surprising. What did she say? Don't tell me she gained a sense of humor right at the end." His laughter was cold, bitter, and even I wanted to cringe at the sound of it.

His only answer was his silence. _Drum, drum_, went Father's fingers, as the silence grew pregnant and long. I didn't have to be in there to know Kosuke would be staring at his shoes, the light in his eyes momentarily gone with the pressure.

_Kosuke…you're so predictable_. I sighed lightly, and even I could detect the saddness in it.

"She…" he said slowly, as if trying to find the right words. His voice was shaking, and it almost jumbled up his sentence when he finished it really fast. "She mentioned Emiko."

Father's study normally has a fairly peaceful feel to it- like a relaxing garden. But, with those few simple words, the heat rose, and it became stuffy even from my vantage point.

I gasped quietly at the mentioning of my name. _What?_ I wondered, the logical part of my brain shutting down so the emotional center wouldn't be forced to drown in grief. Because, right then, I already knew who they were talking about. I just didn't want to admit it.

I could just barely see it from where I was. Kosuke was sitting in front of Father's desk, staring pointedly at a nonexistent object near the corner of it. Father was looking at Kosuke, the anger directed at the dead person who had mentioned my name. "Never speak of her again," he said between clenched teeth. His tone changed back to normal has he moved to a new topic. "Moving right along, to whom will the custody of-"

"Sir," said Kosuke, sounding as if his very words caused him pain.

"Yes, Kosuke?" he asked, sounding agitated.

"We need to tell Emiko, about her death."

The pressure came back, and some part of my brain wondered stupidly why the fire alarm hadn't gone off yet, considering the heat. Father answered quietly, kindly, and with extreme authority. "I understand your concern, but it's best if we don't tell her about this."

"But, sir, this could some form of closure-"

"Closure?" asked my father, his voice quiet in my ears but reminding me of a lion's roar in feeling. "Kosuke, this will not bring about _closure._ This matter, it's over. Don't bring this up again with her." I heard him lean his hands on his newspapers- he had stood up and was leaning towards Kosuke. "Good God, I didn't think we'd even have peace, after I heard how serious it was between them, but with Daisuke's birth everything has become peaceful." His voice went dangerously low, but I was too far away to understand how close Father was to snapping. "I will not allow for this family to be tore up over a silly affair she had in her younger days."

"It was much more serious then 'a silly affair'." Kosuke sighed, accepting his fate. "She loved her."

"All the more reason not to tell her." I heard his hands come up from the newspaper, and his voice came out in a sneer. "And, honestly, I can't believe you'd admit to the fact your wife would have chosen a woman over you, if she had been given the chance."

There was a silence, in which I slumped against the wall, my mind whirling in a hurricane of emotions. _Who, who are they talking about?_ But, under my denial, I knew whom they were talking about. And I couldn't believe it, wouldn't believe it- but my tears were giving evidence against that, though. I just cried, and dumbly wondered why I was crying and whom they were talking about.

I didn't realize I had sunk to the floor, and that I was wringing my long, black cotton skirt or giving myself a hug by griping my shoulders that were covered in a black wool sweater.

"Emiko, she may not see me as her true love, but she does love me to a certain extent. She wouldn't love Daisuke so much if she didn't. I'm fine with it, even if it isn't the perfect marriage." Kosuke had tapped into some hidden strength reserve, speaking with a force quite foreign to his normally subdued tone.

"Hmmm," said Father, sounding disbelieving.

"But, sir, you've gone through something very similar once." Kosuke had put his hands on my father's desk, I heard the familiar sound of flesh touching wood. "Now, I must ask- would you have not to have known about the death of Emiko's mom? She was your true love, just the same as Hikari was to her." His voice had a level of anger I would have never expected from him. "I love her- to me, we're meant to be together. But, she doesn't see it that way. I don't want to tell her- every part of my brain is crying out at me, telling me this is a stupid decision! I don't want her to be sad- she isn't herself when she isn't smiling, bubbling around the house with Dai. But, this…this is important. And, I think she has to know."

"Why?" asked my father. It was obvious something Kosuke had said had struck a cord in him. His voice had taken a weary note to it, the sound I knew to mean that he was giving up. But I didn't realize it then, what was happening- I was just recording the conversation and emotion, my mind in a place far off. "What is the purpose in making one of the only two people we have so depressed?"

Kosuke's tone conjured an image of a glare. "You know perfectly why, and I know probably even better then you do, but I won't say it. I won't be said to be a heretic in the Niwa family."

The pressure, it ebbed away as my father thought, getting sadder with each passing moment.

"No…" he admitted slowly. "I would have wanted to know, about Emi's mother dying."

He cleared his throat, his sign he was giving his decision. "Kosuke, when you married Emiko, I gave up my responsibilities for her care and gave them to you. I can not stop you from telling her. But, I will not take responsibility for anything that happens."

"Yes sir," said Kosuke, sounding slightly more relieved.

If I had been in a right state of mind, I would have at least hidden in another room at hearing them walk towards the door. But, unfortunately, Kosuke was forced to find me crumpled on the floor, tears that I was obvious to streaming down my face.

"Ri-kun," I said quietly, not looking up, not standing up.

"You heard?" asked Kosuke, looking horrified.

_Oh, that's where the pity came from,_ came a random rational thought from the depths of my tortured conscious.

The thought I could still have a sane thought in a time like this had been so funny, and I had just started laughing. It was a hysterical, desperate laugh, which caused Kosuke to stiffen in shock when he was helping me get up.

"It's funny. An excellent joke- but it's so mean. For a moment, you had me believing Ri-kun was dead. But, she can't die. She promised to raise her son, so the curse can finally end. She promised me, and herself that. She wouldn't give up like that. Not Ri-kun." I didn't realize how crazy I looked and sounded, saying all these things while laughing and crying at the same time.

"Oh, Emiko," said Kosuke, steadying me. "She is dead. She died last night."

"But, Ri-kun, she's always strong. She's lasted so long, despite her heart problems…" I said into Kosuke's shoulder, while I stood like stone as he hugged me.

"That's what she went to the hospital for," said Kosuke. "How did you know it was her heart?"

"The hospital?" Somehow, the mentioning of the hospital ended my denial. They wouldn't play a joke for this long, and keep up with it like this. "How long ago?" I asked forcefully, with much more vigor then I was feeling in my shaking limbs.

"A week," he answered truthfully. "When the storms started."

I stared at him in unrestrained horror as this registered with me. My brain just seemed to think with the pace of a dripping gel. "The rain was trying to tell me…" I said dazedly. Kosuke gave me a questioning look, but I ignored that too.

"What…in the end, what did she say about me?" I asked, looking up at Kosuke. I saw him step back unconsciously at my expression

He looked scared to say. "Don't make me tell you…"

"Tell me!" I said frantically, my voice going high and shrill. I had to know, what she would say, after all these years of coldness and silent stares.

He sighed, the hurt obvious in his eyes. "She said 'I'm sorry, Emi-chan, for not telling you sooner about the engagement. But, perhaps, our sacrifices won't totally be in vain, if not for the reasons I first told you'."

The words…her words, I knew them to be true. In them, they carried her personality, her essence. They played in my head over and over again, and time didn't seem to pass normally. I couldn't tell if it had been seconds or hours before the words stopped playing in my mind with Kosuke's voice, but instead played them in hers. With the memory of Ri-kun's voice, I stopped seeing Father and the hallway, but her. Only her, in our place, her hair done up in a long ponytail like the White Demon they carried in their blood. She was sitting next to me, in a blue tank and a white skirt- her colors, she said. And her mouth was moving, and after a moment I realized she was saying that sentence.

And the image changed to that of a hospital, her in a long hospital gown, her pallor unchanged but gaunter then I had ever seen her. She turned to me, and I couldn't bear to look at her, that Rio that had probably been like that only days before. Her blue eyes had lost their shine in sickness, but they could still hold me as surely as magic, imploring me to hear her and look at her. But, I couldn't do it, because she was dead. _Dead..._ it echoed menacingly in my head.

"No," I choked out, breaking my maddened images into fragments of blue stained glass behind my eyes. But I was not far away from breaking like the image, and my vision went into darkness as a fainted. Tears still ran, for I was probably somewhere amongst my memory.

* * *

Notes: 1) I'm not sure if the Niwas are religious, but I don't think they would be, simply because all of the thing they've seen.

I will have the second chapter completed in two weeks, and it will be titled '**Queen of Swords', **and this will take place in Emiko's past. I love reviews, and I've yet to have more then ten reviews for any story of mine so make this one the one to break the record! Reviews and constructive comments are both equally appreciated- flames, not so much.


	2. Queen of Swords

**Once a True Love of Mine**

By Misoka Mine

Disclaimer: I do not own DNAngel in any form or fashion.

Rating: T

Warning: yuri, shojo-ai,

Queen of Swords: A person who quietly suffers, a reserved person

Wow, it's been forever since I've updated. ((hides)) I'm sorry- I actually finished this chapter a while back, but something wasn't quite right about it. I had to edit out some parts. But, mostly everything else looks good. Hopefully, I'll get a chance to update soon.

Also, I would like to thank everyone who reviewed! ((hands them all Emiko plushies))

Kute Anime Kitty- Thank you very much! I'm working on Caught, but I've encountered a writer's block, but I'm outlining an idea I think might work.

Azalee- For the longest, I thought that Rio was a man. But, then I read something from volume nine, and I went, "Oh, she's a woman!" Then all sorts of little plot bunnies came to my head. LOL

Deezy- I'm glad you liked my fic, Deezy-chan. You've got to get an FFnet account- I think you'd like it.

Les Scribbles- Yay! Your reviews always help me out with my stories. I'm glad you liked some of my characterizations. And don't worry, I can understand why you're not sure what to say about Grandpa Daiki, since he's so very much out of character. I wasn't originally planning on him acting like this either, he just…did. It was weird.

Okay, onto the fic!

* * *

_"Prejudice is the chains forged by ignorance to keep men apart."_

_-Marguerite, Countess of Blessington_

"_Human life, its growth, its hope, fears, loves, et cetera, are all results of accidents."_

_-Bertrand Russell_

Chapter 2: Queen of Swords

Time: Past

Narrator: Emiko Niwa, age 13

I paid my fee, and walked into the main lobby. It was blissfully cool in here compared to outside, which was like a perpetual oven. I decided that since it was my first day of ever having freedom, I could take a few setbacks.

I'd just remember to not ride my bike all over town in one hundred degree weather, and instead take the chauffeured car.

The mild sprinkling sounds of chatter echoed around me, and I always felt a little irritated at the sound of it. To me, art always needed to be looked upon with reverence- it was expressions of people's very souls.

_Emiko,_ I asked myself, now fully realizing where I was, _what are you doing here? Didn't you swear over your favorite Hikari artwork that once Dad let you have some freedom, you'd go somewhere besides art museums?_

It had taken months of begging for Dad to let me go around the city without him or a bodyguard. Really, I had thought he wasn't going to relent, until I made a remark at how I was going to be fourteen the next month and I wasn't even allowed a little freedom. "When _you_ were fourteen, you were moonlighting as a thief after school.All I'm asking is being allowed going out by myself during the day. I'm not proposing to do anything crazy, like break into the museum and trying to steal something despite me not being trained."

He had heard the unsaid threat in that, and while it kind of irked me that he'd actually think I'd do something as dangerous as breaking into a museum, it got the result I was looking for.

I sighed, and just chalked it up on my list of setbacks before turning down the hall towards the back of the museum. While I had hoped that I would do something different with my freedom, I could afford to spend one more day in a museum, since this was an extraordinary event: the first new Hikari work to be put in a museum in over fifty years.

Dad had seen it long before, but since newer Hikari works tend to have less restraints on their spirits then the older ones, he had not taken me to see it. Of course, nothing could have happened to me, unless by some miracle I started working magic in the middle of the exhibit. Then, after that miracle, I would have to do a spell that would become a catalyst to awaken the artwork, which involves several different types of magic circles and wands, and several of the incantations in one of the old languages that they recited spells in (why can't we have any spells in good old Japanese?).

Despite all of the precautions, how can my nannies tell me he isn't a paranoid?

I sighed lightly, and took out a hair band out of my purse. As I walked toward one of the back halls of the museum, I put my hair up in a loose ponytail.

Being the idiot I was by putting my hair up in the museum instead of at home, in front of a mirror, I didn't get all of my hair in. Then, when I took my hair out to readjust it, my hairband got tangled in a knot. Silently screaming in frustration, I concentrated more on my hair then where I was going.

But, then again, I had beentouring these museums since I was crawling. I didn't really think about watching where I was going. I only forgot about one big problem, which I didn't figure out till later.

I turned the corner, and I instantly knew where the artwork, the _Weeping Heart,_ was. Anyone with a drop of Niwa blood can tell where a Hikari artwork is even before they see it. I looked up towards the painting, and I almost dropped the hair band in my mouth, because my jaw about fell open.

It was probably about six feet high and three and a half feet wide. A very weird size, but that was one of the things noted about the Hikaris. And, unlike its title suggested, it was a portrait.

It was a side profile of what could have been, if it had been a normal portrait, of a beautiful young girl with long, curly sand blonde hair and deep blue eyes, and looked about twenty years old. But, she appeared older in her picture, because it was so emotional.

She was slumped over her knees, her hair falling like a curtain in front of her face, and she was griping her hair with an grip so strong it was causing blood to drip from her palms. You could see the side of her face, and tears were leaving salty, burning trails along her face. The main colors of the painting were dark green (her dress, and her furniture) and the two neutral colors (her hair and skin), but they night as well have been black. The strokes were so violent that you could barely tell any of the details outside the face area. The Hikaris were true masters- everything else but the face was harsh and sparsely detailed, but the face was intricately detailed yet still managed to not look conspicuous with the rest of the painting.

But, I didn't have long to look at the painting, because I ran straight into someone.

I fell on my back, right onto my hand that was still fooling with my hair. With a few well-chosen curses, I sat up and shook my hands in hopes of stopping the pain.

"Are you all right?" I was asked, by an obviously feminine voice, along with a hand extended towards me to help me up.

_What an odd accent- is she southern (1)?_ I accepted the help and I stood up, my apologies on my lips, but I stopped in shock.

She looked about my age, but her aura told a different story. She had a certain type of _presence_- I couldn't describe it any other way. It was just that sort of that detached, professional feeling the CEOs try to recreate with their suits and nice haircuts. But, she was the real thing, the kind of person that exuded authority despite being a head shorter then me and wearing a pair of black pants and a white short-sleeved top.

She was wearing a small, polite smile that didn't quite meet her eyes- a deep aqua that was like a lava lamp, always swirling and changing. Her hair fell down her shoulders in flyaway sort of waves, and it was odd blue shade I had never seen on a person. If I hadn't just made a complete idiot of myself, I might have risked asking her if it was natural.

There was something I had been told about blue hair, but I couldn't remember. Probably because Father had been the one to tell me- I always forgot everything he said.

"Um," I said, my embarrassment getting the worst of me, as I was forced to look her in the eyes to apologize. "I'm very sorry. I didn't even realize that anyone was there. I guess I just got kind of lost in the painting." I wanted to slap myself for rambling on so. (2)

"That's easy to do, especially with paintings done by them," she said, looking up at it. There was something about the way she looked at it, despite the fact that her expression was carefully neutral, that made me wonder if perhaps she knew the person whose portrait had been painted.

I looked down at the artist's name. It had been painted by Hikari Midori, a name I didn't know or couldn't remember, as much as I racked my brain for it.

"I wonder how the artists managed to actually get someone to pose like that?" I said, looking at her. She looked back, obviously surprised that I was talking to her. _What am I doing?_

Her eyes turned a dark color, and that small smile appeared again. "That's a self-portrait she did from memory. Her only work, her masterpiece- only the Hikaris would be so distraught over the news of being pregnant." At that last part, I had the feeling that she wasn't talking to me, but more to herself.

After an awkward pause, I felt obligated to break the silence, since it had been my fault anyway for it being awkward. "Have you ever been here before?"

She shook her head. "No, this museum is somewhat far away from my home, so I never came across it. One of my relatives mentioned this artwork was going on display here, and mentioned that severalsimilar artworks are here, so I came by to see."

"Oh!" I said, smiling. "I've been coming here since I was little, so I know the artworks and hallways of this place very well. Do you want to look around with me?"

She looked taken aback, but not in an offended sort of way, much to my relief. "There would be no use for you to go through all that trouble…"

"Trouble? Not really- and maybe it would make up for me running into you." I said. "Unless, of course, you're not all that interested in art." Suddenly I felt self-conscious, and I realized that I had fallen back into my bad habit of scratching the back of my neck nervously.

She gave me a small smile, but this one met her eyes much more then her others. "There seems to be no way to persuade you otherwise."

I laughed, and motioned for her to follow me, and we both walked around the halls. I walked around and showed her all of the art pieces I knew about- mostly Hikaris, but also a few other pieces that I had found out about simply because I liked them so much.

She knew a lot about the Hikari works, telling me some things even I didn't know. This surprised me- I thought my family had been the leading authority on all things Hikari-related. But, I dismissed it by just thinking she was probably just a big fan. After all, they are a well-known family.

All the time we looked around, I asked myself why I had offered to take her around. Was it that I was just surprised that there was a girl my own age was interested in art as well, and I had just gotten a little excited? But, somehow, when I debated this theory, it just didn't seem quite right somehow. Nothing else came to mind, though, so I decided to leave it in my mind as an unfinished argument.

We had gotten through several different exhibits when she looked down at her watch. "I'm going to have to leave. I was supposed to leave ten minutes ago for my violin lesson. It's hard to believe we've been here two and a half hours," she said.

"It doesn't seem like it's been that long at all," I said truthfully. "It's a shame you have to go." It really was- despite her cool demeanor, I thought she was a really nice person. I wasn't a shy person, but I had always been…different. It wasn't often that I made friends.

"Yes," she said. She looked through the window, and obviously saw her ride. "Good-bye, and thank you." She bowed, and started walking away.

I watched her walk away, and before I had even realized it, I had called out for her to wait. She turned around, her hand resting on the doorframe.

"I never gave you an introduction- I'm Emiko, Niwa Emiko."

She took her had off the doorframe, her eyes growing wide in surprise. "Niwa?" Then that bitter smile came back. "Of course, that would explain your red hair. I had just assumed that you were half Japanese, but it makes sense now."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"It would be better if we just pretended that this meeting never happened," she said without even looking at me, walking out.

Glaring, I hurried after her. When I got out in the hallway, I grabbed a hold of the back of her sleeve. "Look, I don't know what your problem is, but I've already apologized for running into you…"

She sighed with exasperation. "No, it's not that. It's because you are a Niwa." She didn't seem too angry about having me grab the back of her sleeve. In fact, she seemed totally uncaring to my anger. If anything, that just made me even more irrritated.

"What does that have to do with you?"

She turned around, her voice devoid of all emotion. "It means everything, because I'm a Hikari." She pulled her sleeve from my grasp. "Hikari Rio." And, with that, she walked out to her car. My anger had evapporated with that bit of knowledge, leaving me dazed and confused, just standing there stupidly in the museum lobby.

_She's…a Hikari?_

To Be Continued…

* * *

Author's Notes: 

(1) -I don't mean as in the southern US- I mean southern Japan, which is much different. Think Sorata's Japanese voice from X/1999, only female.

(2)- I figured that Daisuke inherited that trait, and Kosuke's just too calm to have such a habit…so Emiko is a rambler!

Next chapter is the Five of Cups, and it will take in "present time", when Emiko is 26.


	3. Five of Cups

Once a True Love of Mine 

By: Misoka Mine

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I do not own DNAngel. It all belongs to Yukiru Sugisaki, and I don't make any money off this fanfic at all.

Warning: yuri, violence, possibly swearing, very likely OOC

Summary: As Emiko gets ready for Rio Hikari's funeral, she thinks back on the relationship they had shared.

Five of Cups: feeling deprived of love, regret, sorrowful

Les Scribbles: I'm glad that the peanut gallery is pleased. Rio just came to life when I wrote this, and I'm glad you liked her characterization. Glad you liked Emiko as well. I hope the formatting errors didn't mess you up badly- always does it to my stories. Also, I made the note of the time and narrator less 'travel log', so no one confuses Daiki with a raptor. XD

About Emiko sensing the Weeping Heart and not sensing Rio- I have explained it in this chapter.

Azalee: Congrats on figuring out that the Weeping Heart was Rio's mom! ((hands her a wing shaped cookie)) I tried to hint at it, but if Rio had mentioned that it was her mother, there was too much of a chance Emiko might have figured it out.

I know- it's only been a week or two, and I'm updating already? What's wrong with me? Not that it's a bad thing, but it's OOC for me. Oh well, enjoy it, because I doubt I'll get anything updated soon when school starts, due to all my honor classes.

* * *

Present, Kosuke Niwa

I opened my eyes, and squinted as I looked up. The ceiling was smooth and domed shape- I could have sworn the ceiling above my bed was straight. Also, my bed wasn't as comfortable as it usually was, and my neck and back were both protesting because of it.

And she wasn't there.

I looked to my side, and I found myself looking at the back of the couch. Emiko wasn't there smiling in her sleep with her long curly hair hanging over her shoulders.

A wave of sadness came over me at the thought of Emiko, but I couldn't remember why. I couldn't even remember why I was sleeping in the living room- I at least remembered where I was- instead of my bed.

I sat up, and I looked back at our bedroom. The door was open, which was unusual. She was on her back, wrapped in a cocoon of sheets. But I didn't think about that long- because when I saw how her eyes were puffy and that she wasn't smiling, I remembered.

The night before, she had overheard me talking with Daiki about Rio Hikari's death.

My memories came flashing back, and I lied back on the couch, suddenly losing all of my strength. I rested my head back on the armrest, and I realized that I was sick to my stomach with worry.

I couldn't help but make a small bitter smile. _She'll never love me, at least not like she did her. I should be jealous, angry, or glad at that woman's death, but I'm so pathetic. All I can do is worry about her. _

I put my hands over my eyes and I couldn't help but sigh. I cringed at the sound of it. It sounded like I had been carrying the weight of the world for eons, like a mortal Atlas.

I'm not sure how long I stayed that way. I had called out sick for this week, so I didn't have to go to work. Daisuke wouldn't wake up till he heard people moving around and getting ready. And Daiki…well, I doubted he cared what I did.

As for Emiko, I didn't know. I really didn't want to think ahead about what problems could be ahead. It only made me sick. I decided to push her out of my mind till she woke up, and collect my bearings.

There was a kind of indifferent solace in the small darkness I had created, covering my eyes, and I for a moment understood why the Niwa family found such comfort in the darkness. It was bittersweet, but it's better then seeing all your problems clear and brightly. No wonder the Hikaris were so miserable.

When I sat up again, my back seemed to protest less, but my neck was even worse. I just rubbed it, rather uselessly, and went towards Daiki's study. I needed to get away, from this house, from her…but I wanted to get a few things first.

I opened the door, and I was surprised to find him sitting outside his study, the traditional Japanese paper doors opened to reveal a porch. He was looking outside, where the sky was a dull white.

The cup of tea sitting next to him was full, but it wasn't steaming. I wondered if he had gotten it when he had woke up, but hadn't been able to drink it. But, looking at how he was hunched over his knees, giving him the impression of being ancient, I wondered if he had even slept at all.

When he turned to me, I noticed how pale he was, and how the sharp light in his eyes was dulled to almost nonexistence, I decided that my latter theory was probably more likely.

"Oh, Kosuke," he said, giving me a small smile that looked rather forced. Not forced because he was angry, but because he seemed emotionally exhausted. And when I tried to return the smile and greeting, I found it just as hard as he obviously had.

I walked over and sat down next to him, feeling that perhaps it would be rude to just walk out, despite the fact that the memory of his conduct last night made my blood boil. But, despite his callousness, I knew he truly did love Emiko and that he wanted the best for her. We were the same in that regard, if not in anything else.

I wasn't surprised when he didn't say anything to me- I doubt he expected me to say anything either. There wasn't anything to say, not really. There were no fond memories of the deceased person, no relation to her, not anything. We were merely, as we always had been, guests in their relationship, moved back and forth as things happened and changed.

The air was cool, as it always is this early in the morning, but it was very humid, a premonition of how the weather would be later. There were faint breezes, just enough to take the bite out of the humidity, but you still felt like you were breathing in both air and water.

I was shocked out of my stupor when I heard Daiki's voice say, "It had been just like today, only less humid. It's ironic, actually."

I blinked. I would have pretended to not hear, if I hadn't heard the pain in his voice. "What had been like today, sir?"

He tried to give a small smile, but I could see the deep sadness in his eyes. "Yukino's funeral. I hadn't been able to sleep then, either. I just stayed awake, and watched the sun slowly come up."

Yukino. I knew that name- Emiko said she would have named Daisuke that, if he had been born a girl. I had asked her why, and she had turned to me with the brightest smile and said, "Because that had been my mother's name, before she passed away."

_It must have been hard, terribly hard, knowing that after the funeral, he'd never see his wife again._ Despite my anger, I couldn't help but feel sympathy for him.

"It doesn't seem like the weather for a funeral." My voice seemed hoarse, like I hadn't talked in ages.

"It rarely ever is the right weather for a funeral. But, after all the funerals I've been to, bright weather at a cemetery seems much more dreary then rain or drizzle."

"I've never been to a funeral before," I admitted embarrassedly.

He laughed slightly at that, but it seemed tired. "You're not missing out on anything, I assure you."

Silence hung over us again. I was lost in my own thoughts, which were becoming rather repetitive but still very painful, when I realized that I had just voiced a question I normally wouldn't have dreamed of asking.

"Sir, how long did it take you to finish…mourning, the passing of your wife?"

He stared at the ground, and said nothing. I sat there, feeling incredibly guilty. I hadn't meant to ask that, not at all. I felt my face turn red up to my ears.

"Kosuke," he said gently. I couldn't look at him.

"Kosuke, I never did stop mourning her loss. Every day I miss her- and, I'm afraid that while you haven't noticed it, Emiko's been missing that girl ever since they separated." I resisted the urge to tell them that of course I noticed. _You never saw that light she had when she was around Hikari Rio. You wouldn't have realized that those times when she's just sitting there quietly, thinking with that calm air, that she's remembering her._

"But, Emiko must decide on her own whether to move on or not. Nothing I ever did changed anything between them, and I will never be able to do anything. Neither will you, not really. You can comfort Emiko as best you can, but, the only thing we can really do is wait."

"But…what if she doesn't?" I asked, looking towards the horizon.

"Then, Emiko will have let the curse swallow her up…and we'll do what we have to do if that time comes," he said, pulling his kimono more tightly around himself as well.

"The curse?" I asked, sitting up from the wall and looking over at Daiki. "What does the curse have to do with this? I mean, I thought it only affected the men of the family."

He glanced over at me, and then he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall. A bitter smile came to his face, and he snorted. "It has everything to do with this. The reason why they loved each other, the reason they stayed together, and the reason they stopped seeing each other; it was all because of this curse."

I turned towards him, bringing my knees up to my chin, and looking at him over my knees. "But I thought the Niwas and the Hikaris hated each other- why would the reason they love each other be the curse?"

Daiki gave a small laugh. "Get comfortable, Kosuke, you've just set yourself up for a long tale. I'll go over everything, just in case Emiko left something out." I leaned back, watching Daiki pick up his cup, but not drink from it yet.

"The base of the curse is that our blood and bodies are shared by Dark in exchange for him stealing the Hikari artworks and protecting us from their line of attack, the White Wings. Having a powerful entity like that running through your family's veins…it changes your traits, your DNA. You take on some of the traits he possess, gain some of his magic…Nothing extremely serious, but we are still mutated somewhat by that.

"Perhaps the biggest difference between regular people and our clans is our heightened senses. We are more sensitive to emotions and magical auras then any clans in history. Our senses have always been 'art based', but that might be simply because Hikari art give off a powerful magical waves. We also can easily spot anyone with magic, unless they're in tune with their powers and keep it steady, which would be anyone from the Hikari or Niwa, so our powers in that area are rather useless.

"On a very basic level, minus a few different magical traits and their artistic ability that teeters on the border of 'magically influenced' and magically cheating, we have the same curse. Same triggers for transformation, same triggers to go back. Their curse, however, doesn't play by the rules. He takes over without the trigger, and usually against the will of the Tamer, in order to get what he wants. Naturally, since the trigger is the reason that the curse wakes up in his host altogether, they'd naturally try to suppress their emotions to not have a trigger, and that would work if they could be indifferent to everyone all the time.

"But, just as that has become the standard training for a Hikari, it has become just as much a part of their curse. It's nearly guaranteed anyone they open up to will become their trigger, because they're nearly as possessive as their curse when it comes to the person who is close to them.

"The reason that our curses are so similar can be traced back to the records of the time when it all began. I do not know as much as I'd like to know about what the relationship of Dark and the White Wings is, but I do know one thing: at one time, they were one entity."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "The same entity?"

He nodded. "The Black Wings is considered by those rare few that have seen it to be the greatest creation the Hikaris ever created. But, yet they also said it was horrible. 'It's inhuman,' they said, 'this thing is too dangerous. It's almost alive- what if it comes to life? It could destroy everything!' But the Hikaris were always very proud of the things they created, and when they stretched the limits of their power too far, it…"

"It came to life," I finished.

"Yes. How they got split, I don't know- I believe it was an accident. In all I've read, I'm not sure who's at fault for the split, but we do know that there was an argument between them. Later that day, the Hikari tried to cast a spell. Our ancestor entered the room, and past that point, no one knows what happened."

"So, it seems likely that the Niwa was the reason it happened," I said, letting go of my legs and sitting cross legged.

An irritated look came to his eyes. "Any number of things could have happened. But, anyway, that wasn't the point I was trying to make. We could argue for hours over what could have happened when the spell went wrong and Dark and the White Wings were split.

"What I'm saying is that just as Dark and the White Wings are bound to each other, so are the Niwa and the Hikari. We hate each other, yes, but as was written by the first Niwa tamer wrote, 'In reality, their wishes were one and the same'. We fight each other, not really for the art, but for a family war. The object of that war is to end this curse, and it's a kind of unstated belief that the winners will receive the answer to free them from their curse.

"But on a different note, while the two curses are different, they must harmonize in a way. The curses were two parts of one personality, so naturally they mesh together at some point…or at least, they did at one time. The White Wings has been bent on revenge for so long, I wonder if he even is the same being he was three hundred years ago."

I watched him drink the cold tea, and I reflected in awe over the story. Emiko had told me vague details about the feud, but nothing to this degree. I wondered if Emiko even knew this much about the feud.

"Bleh," he said, swallowing it quickly. "I should have known it was cold by now." He set it down.

"Anyway, despite the fact they've changed, they're still basically one art piece. Looking at it, if the curses's personalities fit together well, and as much as I hate to say it, wouldn't the Niwas and the Hikaris naturally be similar?"

"So," I said slowly, "does that mean that the Hikaris and the Niwas are a perfect match?"

"Hardly. Of course, there have been Hikaris and Niwas in the past that had been suspected of being lovers, but until recently, the curse has been the main force behind both of our families. There was far too much anger for both clans for any of them to even consider being serious about those relationships. Now, as our lines dwindle down, and fewer candidates for the curses are born, the anger isn't instilled into our children as much as it used to. I could tell the difference- my grandfather never went a day without saying something bad about the Hikaris, while my mother rarely even mentioned it.

"What would stop them from becoming close? They had no brothers or cousins or uncles putting their lives on the line for family honor. I can imagine it seemed silly, to be worried about a family curse that had never even touched them. Never mind what their families think, don't heed that people had died to keep this feud going…this day in age, parents tell their children that young love doesn't last, but yet we still hold in high regard the story of the teenagers Romeo and Juliet, and countless other young relationships that supposedly seem perfect. We tell them one thing, show them another.

"It wasn't till years later that the silly Hikari girl figured out the truth- the painful truth of that this curse doesn't just involve artwork and magic. Strife and sorrow is sown and interwoven into every Niwa and Hikari's past. Men or women, young or old, child or adult, in reality we are all paying penance for something that happened three hundred years ago."

There was a long silence in which Daiki calmly let me digest everything he had just told me. After a long while, I asked, "Do you think that the Niwas and the Hikaris will be paying forever to pay back for whatever happened?"

"Perhaps there will be an end to all of this. But, as of right now, I see no end in sight."

I sighed and turned away. In between his ranting on the Hikaris and distaste for anything that hinted of change, he had given me much more information than anyone had ever had. Was all of this history contained in the old tomes in Daiki's study?

I know that Daiki had mentioned that they constantly take and get new books as they're uncovered and found in these historic sites. Was there a volume out there that gave the whole story of how the curse had came into being, or even one that gave the answer to how to end the curse?

Was the answer of how to end the suffering of these families, and to prevent the future suffering of my son, somewhere displayed in a museum that didn't know its true value?

I had always, even when I had been little, tried to take my mind off my troubles by immersing myself in something. My most comforting and sympathetic friends were my books, or even my high school entrance exam as had been the case after my parents had passed away.

It relived me to have something to do instead of worry, and it made me feel even better to be able to do something that might be a help to the family who had accepted me as one of their own.

Now I had to just wait out the storm.

"I'm going to borrow a few books from your collection. I'm going to go to the library."

"That's fine. Just remember where they go- all of the books look the same unless you look at the titles, and I'll never find anything that way."

I smiled weakly, and picked out a few books. I was looking for one more book when I saw the door open. I steeled myself, and I notice Daiki move out of the corner of my eye.

But, much to my relief, I saw that the intruder was far too short to be Emiko. And, the last time I had checked, Emiko didn't have spiked hair like her father and husband (it was ironic that both Daiki and I had the same hair texture).

"Dad, I'm hungry," he said, walking inside slowly with an anxious look, "but Mom is still sleeping."

"That's all right," said Daiki, walking over and picking Daisuke up before I even had a chance to get a word in edgewise. "I'll fix breakfast if you promise not to disturb your Mom or Dad today. Your mom isn't feeling good, and Dad's busy today. Okay?"

"Okay!" he said, smiling, as Daiki carried him into the kitchen.

I quickly found the book and followed them out. By the time I got to the kitchen, Daiki was already whipping up something on the stove while Daisuke sat on the counter and watched.

"Sir, are you sure-" I started before Daiki cut me off.

"I can take care of Daisuke for one day. You just get ready and go to the library."

I nodded, and cautiously entered the bedroom. I closed the door silently behind me, and looked over at Emiko. She had turned over, and was facing towards me. She was wearing a black wool shirt a matching skirt, yet she still looked cold. I tore my eyes away and went towards the closet. I picked out a black turtleneck and a pair of jeans, and went and got in the shower.

When I came out, I expected Emiko to be awake, but much to my surprise I found her still asleep. I was relived, yet somehow worried, because I really didn't want her to wake up by Daisuke prodding her awake.

I shook my head, not really finding a way to avoid that. I walked up to the mirror, and adjusted the neck of my shirt.

My fingers froze as I saw Emiko stir.

She sat up sleepily, and she looked over to my side of the bed as I had this morning. "Kosuke?" she asked, rubbing her eyes.

"Emiko?" I asked gently.

She looked over at me curiously, but didn't say anything. I watched her expression change as she internally debated about what was going on.

When comprehension dawned on her face, I wished that I was anywhere but looking at her. I wished that I had stayed in Daiki's study and had read their instead, rather then running away to the library.

"Oh, no. No, it couldn't have happened," she said, rambling on.

I interrupted her rambling by saying, "It did happen, Emiko."

She abruptly stopped speaking, and looked at me. "What?"

"The funeral is tonight at five, at the extension of the Hikari Mansion," I said flatly, surprised at how calm my voice was, while my stomach turned into knots at the sight of her expression.

I took a piece of paper off the dresser, and put it on the nightstand next to the bed. When I turned around, I felt her grab onto the back of my shirt.

"Kosuke, you can't be serious," she said. She was smiling, but it seemed kind of pleading. I gently pried her fingers loose from my sleeve.

"I'm sorry, Emiko."

I tried to move, I really did, but after two steps my feet seemed to be rooted to the floor. "I really am, Emiko," I said again stupidly.

"Kosuke…you are serious, aren't you? Ri-kun, she's really…?" she asked me, but I couldn't bring myself to answer.

"No…she couldn't have! She wouldn't, she can't!" I heard her choke on her words.

I heard muffled sobs, and I realized that Emiko must have turned over and was crying into the pillow. I looked back at her, and I wished that I could comfort her. But nothing I could do would make her feel better.

I think she must have sensed me, because I heard a muffled, "Kosuke."

"What is it?" I asked.

"Kosuke…go away. Stop staring at me, and stop pitying me so. You're the last person who I want to pity me now!"

I took an involuntary step back, feeling like she had just slapped me. I sighed, and I found the strength to walk to the door, albeit shaky steps all the way there. Her sobs were the only thing I heard as I opened the door and closed it behind me.

"Is she awake?" asked Daiki from the table.

I nodded, running my hands through my hair. I walked out the door, not even remembering to tell Daisuke goodbye. The only thing I was thinking was about her crying, and how it seemed to echo in my head and refuse to leave.

* * *

((hides)) I'm so sorry Emiko is like this- she will stop having the same reactions and stop being angry by the next chapter, I swear.

Daiki isn't quite as evil in this chapter, but still kind of sarcastic (he just won't stop), and while he won't play a part much in the flashbacks till much later, he will play a fairly big role in the present arc.

The next chapter will be the "Ace of Cups"


End file.
